Not for You, but Me
by hakanaii
Summary: Fifteen years after the war, one ghost of his remains in clear sight.
1. Chapter 1

**Note:** for marblesharp who unintentionally helped me place some much needed pieces together. Thank you 3

* * *

"I remember running last night."

"Through an arena made up entirely of desert."

"The air was dry, making it hard to catch my breath in the sweltering heat."

"Hot sand filled my lungs even after I collapsed. I welcomed death, but then I felt water hit my face."

"Looking up, I saw her there with that cheeky grin of hers. A pale in one hand and her blowgun in the other."

"She threw the bucket to the ground, bent down and reached out to me with that merchant hand of hers. She saved me… again."

_And yet, you let her die. _

"The moment I tried to make sense of it, she was screeching with a beak sticking straight through her neck."

_There is nothing you could have done then. _

"No."

Bringing the white liquor bottle up to his lips, she snatches it out of his hands.

_Big shot rebel conspirator, Haymitch Abernathy doesn't need a bottle of booze anymore to alter his point of view. You've helped bring about change to Panem with two free hands and a clear mind. Do you have any idea how they are so proud of you, Haymitch, your mum, your brother and the Donner girl._

Leaning across his kitchen table, she places a kiss on his forehead.

_How proud I am of you. You've grown up to be so much more admirable than the boy I fell in love with. _

Reaching up, his fingers sweep a dark wave out of her gray eyes.

"I wish you were here to see it."

_I _am_ here. Always have been, always will be. _

Pulling away from him, she lets go of her hold on the bottle. The glass shatters against the wooden floor, awakening Haymitch with a start.

The knife still securely in his hand reflexively thrusts outwards as he frantically scans his quiet house. He fell asleep at the kitchen table again, early morning light pouring in through the linen drapes.

It was rare when his day started with everyone elses.

Sitting back against the wooden chair, he takes a deep breath. His girl is nowhere to be seen.

Lifting himself from his seat, he trudges towards the bathroom making an attempt to be hygienic for his little neighbours. Katniss said it would be good if the kid wasn't scared of her godfather.

Staring back at himself through the mirror, he catches something unusual through all the destruction. When had been the last time he cried?

Washing away the remnants, he drags his nails through the thickend stumble.

_Leave it, I like it. _

The fingers that ghost over his handle of the razor snap back as his eyes flicker back up to the reflective glass. She is staring back at him with those sparkling gray eyes of hers. A smile graces her full, red lips as she rests her chin on his shoulder, her wavy, coal black hair falling in sheets over his shoulders.

"Why?"

_As a reminder._

His barking laugh shatters the silence, "Like I need another one of those."

_Not you for you, but me. _

Her lips brush against his cheek as her thin fingers trail down his arm. Slowly, she fades into the full glow of the morning sun.

The squawking of geese brings him back to reality, followed by the laughter of his little neighbour as they chase the birds around his front yard. Their mother's voice warns them to be quieter as she worries they will wake him.

Picking up the razor and running it under the cool water, Haymitch half smiles to himself. If the girl can find a way, so can he.


	2. Chapter 2

Note: Tralucidus - a product that gives someone the ability to be transparent for a short period of time.

* * *

During a Good Week, Haymitch takes his chances and boards the first train out of District Twelve.

The world beyond the panes of glass appears to have some semblance to it. Stretches of forest may have dwindled down a quarter of a size but the meadows are just as luscious.

Horses and cows graze heartily by silos in District Ten while the smog from the textile factories billows amongst the clouds as he passes through District Eight.

Her pink palms press up against the cooling glass as her lips parts in awe. He cannot help but smile; it's been a while since she came for a visit.

_It's all so beautiful! Why don't you leave Twelve more often?!_

Haymitch shrugs, "Trains don't come in for vacation purposes very often. "

She turns back to him, floating down onto his open lap and offers him that signature 'you-have-twenty seconds- to-tell-me-what-you're-talking-about -or-else' grin.

After thirty-eight years, his girl knows him just as well as she did back then.

"The others and I, we get together. Talk, joke, remember."

_Is everyone meeting in Seven then? _

"No. Finnick and Annie are expecting. We agreed it is best if she stays close to home, in case something happens again."

_ Oh. Then why are we stop—_

"Haymitch Abernathy in wrinkle free clothing, never thought I'd live to see the day," Johanna's says, flopping down in the seat adjacent to him in a low cut dress. Her chest practically falling out of the bust.

His girl's seething, puffs loudly between his ears as her pointed Seam nose wrinkles indignantly. Over the years, she developed a strong distaste for Johanna Mason. Personifying her as the groups of overzealous teenagers who make out at the slag heap; desperate, horny and always looking for a new mouth to stick their tongue down.

However, that Johanna no longer existed. She may still wear clothes that accentuate parts of her body but she was no longer the young woman who sought solace with alcohol and sex. The long years tested her thoroughly before Gale Hawthorne showed up on her door step with work on his mind but loneliness in his heart.

"With fifteen additional years of alcohol on my liver, you're definitely going to outlive me," he jokes, but the humour escapes Johanna.

"You're not funny," she says, flatly.

"Sorry."

_You should be. _

* * *

Finnick is the one to greet them at the District Four station. A tired smile tugs at his lips as he envelopes his dear friends into a hug.

"Is Annie alright by herself," is Haymitch's first concern when Finnick leads them over to his car.

"Beetee and Enobaria showed up early this afternoon. Noah's got his eye on her, too. She's in good hands," Finnick's voice is distant as he slides into the driver's seat.

"Haymitch figured out how to iron his clothes," Johanna tries to get Finnick to smile, as he starts the car, but it is to no avail. His head drops to the top of the rubber stirring wheel, inhaling a shaky breath.

_You'd think his suffering would have finally come to an end after all these years. _

"Get out of the car," Haymitch says, sternly.

Finnick forfeits his position without struggle as the men switch places.

He may only know how to drive in theory, but Haymitch gets them to the house along the beach in one piece.

When they arrive, Beetee and Enobaria are sitting on the porch in front of the steel fire pit. Finnick rushes out of the car and into the house once he discovers Annie is not with them, earning a deep sigh from Johanna who wraps her arms around her bodice.

"Y'know it's summer, the hell is it so cold for," Johanna clenches her jaw to refrain her teeth from chattering.

_Serves her right. _

Slipping his coat off, Haymitch hands her the blazer which she gratefully wraps around her shaking shoulders as she sits down before the flickering flames.

There is no verbal gratitude in recognition of the gesture, only silence and the crackling fire.

"I'm assuming the trip up went well," Enobaria speaks each word crisply as she stares directly into Haymitch's gray eyes, scorching him from the inside out.

He shrugs, "As well as a train ride can go."

"Didn't let Finnick drive here, did you?" Enobaria's mouth quirks up in a smirk as she uncrosses her legs.

"Being one mishap short of a break down, if I let him operate the vehicle I'd be suicidal," Haymitch snorts.

"Can't say I miss this side of him," Johanna adds, her open palms soaking in the heat.

Enobaria barks a laugh, showing off the filed ends of her teeth, "Makes me wish I still had some of those neon green tablets Gloss stored in bulk."

"_That_ Finnick would probably scare the living shit out of Annie and his boy though," Haymitch says, being the voice of reason.

"Then we'll just have to make do with getting him drunk off his ass," Johanna chimes in, which gets the conspirators to laugh in chorus.

_Troublemaker. _

"Leaving us out of the fun already. Some friends you are," comes Finnick's voice from the front door way. The wild, frantic look in his eyes from earlier has been ebbed, mostly likely by wife's assurance. "Guess I'll just have to tell Annie she overcooked."

"On the contrary," Beetee chuckles out of the blue, their eyes to snap towards him. "They were just talking about the old ways they used to have fun."

Haymitch hadn't realized the man had been awake. All bundled up with his eyes closed, Haymitch assumed Beetee was enjoying a pre-dinner nap. Even in his old age, the man is as unsuspecting as ever.

"Better watch your glass tonight," the elderly man warns half-heartedly.

Scanning the faces of his friends, Finnick smiles with excitement, "Duly noted."

* * *

_So much for staying tidy. And sober._

"Expecting any less is your fault, not mine."

_You didn't need to go through both bottles though. _

He doesn't answer back. Only stares at the same spot above the door frame, laying spread out on the bed in only his t-shirt and black slacks.

_He's just a kid. _

_He didn't mean it._

Haymitch remains silent.

_He and Annie are doing the best they can at teaching him about the past.  
_

You can't blame Noah for his curiosity nor Finnick for his ambiguity on the subject.

"That doesn't mean the boy can throw around the word whore like that."

_You were the one that chastised him for hemming and hawing!_

"Now you see why I had both," Haymitch mumbles as he takes a pillow and buries it in his face. "I should have let Finnick drive."

_Haymitch…_

Throwing the pillow at the door, he spooks her into vanishing, leaving him alone in his intoxicated haze with the ticking of the clock.

He knew better than to push the boy, but talking in circles about the details of Snow's tyranny was no longer beneficial. Noah will be turning sixteen next week; he needed to know that being of age used to come with a price.

Rigthing himself into a sitting position, Haymitch swings his legs over the side of the bed and leaves the solitary confinement of the bedroom.

His feet carry him through the darkened home to the back veranda which overlooks the ocean.

Haymitch didn't see her standing there amongst the early morning shadows until he slid open the door and padded onto the deck. Enobaria's slim frame jumps. Her long, straight black hair whips around her swan like neck as her eyes widen in surprise.

"Don't do that," she snarls.

"Beetee says it'll take another few years before they get Tralucidus on the market. So until then, I'm going to have to use the door. Sorry."

Enobaria guffaws, "Dork."

"That's why you like me, sweetheart," he laughs, coming up beside her to lean against the wooden railing.

The ebb and flow of the tide licks at the rocks by the shore as they intact the salt fresh breeze wafting off the ocean.

"With all the alcohol, I thought you'd still be a sleep," she comments, her eyes trained on the water. "Or, y'know, drowning in your own vomit."

"… giving the boy a guilt complex is not on my agenda."

Watching him out of the corner of her eye, she pushes off the railing and falls back onto the wicker couch. "There's no use worrying about something he was going to find out about eventually. You've always given Finnick the push he needs to do the tough stuff."

Haymitch blinks, his gaze lands on her preoccupied hands as they play with the ends of her hair. Sitting down beside her, he grasps onto the wrist of one of her busy hands and pulls it away forcing her to look at him.

"The hell are you doing, Abernathy?" she squawks, snapping her hand out of his.

"It's bothering you too," he says quickly.

"Look, I don't want to -"

"Why not? It's been far too long for me to judge you.

Who would I be if I did anyhow?"

The crash of the waves fills their silence, before she starts to laugh.

"I can't believe a fifteen year old kid could cause this much trouble with just one question," she says with a smile.

"Not surprising from an Odair," he smirks, leaning back against the padded seat.

"Living by the ocean must be nice," Enobaria whispers as the sun creeps along the horizon.

"Your cave not doing it for you anymore?"

"A change of scenery is nice once in a while.

Don't rows upon rows of trees get stale for you?"

Haymitch shrugs as he sinks low into his seat, propping up his bare feet onto the plastic coffee table, "Better than the high rises of the Capitol."

"Point taken."

They fall into a silence once more. This time, however, the glow of the rising sun and the brightening of the blue sky has her lolling her head onto his shoulder with a yawn.

"Sorry," she says, bolting upright and resting her head against the back of the sofa.

Wrapping his fingers around her neck, he pulls her head back down onto his shoulder. "Give yourself this one okay?"

He can feel her succumb to her exhaustion as her shoulders slump as her breathing begins to slow.

His fingers weave through her hair rhythmically as the shadows begin to fade on the balcony but remain on her snow white skin.

The warmth from the sunlight has him in a stupor. With each repetitive motion, he finds his lids grow heavier.

"Oh. It's just you two," Finnick's voice suddenly breaks their silence, his head popping out from the open door.

Haymitch's eyes snap open.

His hand stops pulling through her hair the moment he catches Finnick staring at it.

"Rough night?"

"Just long," Haymitch says, arching off the back of the seat cushion.

Shifting beside him, a groan passes her lips. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she curls up into him welcoming the warmth of his body.

"Should I save breakfast for you guys then?"

"Don't bother. We'll see you at dinner," Haymitch says with a smile as he loops his arm under her legs, lifting her with ease up along with himself.

Her bedroom door is wide open when he comes up to it.

Slipping inside, Haymitch gently puts her down onto the duvet and covers her with a blanket.

He can't recall a time he had ever seen Baria look so peaceful.

Leaning over her, he brushes his lips to the triangle of her skin that peaks through her parted bangs.

As he draws back, her thin fingers curl around his wrist, holding him in his place.

"Years of being sold to those filthy rich bastards might all just seem like a bad dream now," she says suddenly, her eyes fluttering open. "But it's come to shape me in ways that have made me proud of who I am."

She lets go of his wrist as he smiles down at her.

Cupping his scruffy face between her hands she pulls him towards her, pressing her lips to his briefly.

"And you got mad at me for grabbing your hand," he retorts as she relinquishes him. "Not going to lie, I'd forgotten what a kiss felt like. Thanks."

"There you go again, ruining a perfectly good moment," she sighs.

"Have I now?"

"You're a good friend, Haymitch."

"Fifteen years of these trips and you still insist on playing the friend card with me?"

Enobaria rolls her eyes as shifts over to the other side of the bed.

Climbing on top of the duvet and laying down beside her, he wraps his arm around her waist placing a kiss on her temple.

He doesn't have to look at her to know she's smiling.

"Don't look so smug."


End file.
